To the man with warmth for eyes and a voice that could calm the most turbulent waves, I’m perpetually indebted to you.
Yours is more than mortal beauty; every word is full of grace.
But no flame burns forever, you and I both know this all too well.
Do you fix hearts and bones? and bottles?
Dry tears and carry burdens?
Grass stains and tree bark
glowing embers fading to eyes.
Scent of decaying fiction, carved out of daylight
skies ignite words,
sugar cubes melt on the tongue.
Clipped wings
broken blooms, dismantled halos alike
my strawberries depart your wrap-around porch..
–
Yours always and whatever is after that,
Ayeesha.
